


#19: Hair

by RocioWrites



Series: 20 words [19]
Category: Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: “Billy,” He starts in a painfully firm voice. And moving away enough to face him fully, he continues. “have you looked at me?”Billy blinks. “Yes?” He replies slowly. “I have looked at you everyday for years now.”“I’m serious.”“I’m serious too!” But it’s humorous. “Okay, okay. What part of you am I supposed to be looking at exactly?”“My hair.”





	#19: Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Is it too late to post a silly fic for Valentine’s? I hope not because I rushed through this in two days aprox (half of it at the office and the rest before and after the power went out in my house yesterday lmao).
> 
> Sorry if it’s not the best but I had an itch to write it so here it is.

Getting back to their small apartment and finding it way too silent and eerily dark does awful things to his anxiety. Billy knows he shouldn’t be this worried, the lock wasn’t picked and nothing seems out of place.

Either way, irrational fear settles low in his chest, heavy and dark, curling around his lungs.

“Alan?” He tries, voice tentatively modulated. There’s no reason to be afraid, for all he knows Alan can be napping…

At 8pm.

Which happens… never.

Rounding the corner and entering the kitchen is as traumatic as one might expect when cooking has gone wrong. There’s a persistent low-key burnt smell, and if he squints he thinks there’s still the telltale of smoke swirling around. That’s when he notices the candles and the good plates and cutlery on the table, the cute ones with the tiny blue flower pattern they barely get to use. And the long, refined attempt-at-crystal “champagne” glasses!

The irrational fear shifts into this uncomfortable knot in his throat, and it starts to feel like that domestic dread he feels when he has forgotten a birthday or another important date and is making a fool of himself. Alan is usually a lot worse with anniversaries and that kind of things but then again, Alan usually leaves the lights on and doesn’t cook anything fancy that will require the delicate wannabe china.

To be honest he’s afraid to check the stove but opening the fridge confirms something’s up, a huge bowl of salad (eggs, potatoes, carrot, lettuce, tomatoes and so on) plus three bottles of wine.

Yep, he definitely forgot something.

“Alan.” Billy says again, a bit louder and aiming for a confidence that has fled as soon as he laid eyes on the candles. “Hey, where are you?”

The reply never comes.

A step towards the bedroom and Billy stops.

His memory can’t supply any relevant date at this early of the year. But if it got Alan making all this effort, he’s now concerned about what may be waiting for him in their bedroom. He takes a moment to check his phone in case he has any texts or missed event or something, and it proves futile. He is lost.

“You’re starting to worry me here.” He proclaims because it’s a fair warning to state, he thinks.

“Over here.” Alan finally, _finally_ , calls back. His voice is steady with a strange subdued tinge dripping from it. It tugs strings in his heart that convince Billy once again that he’s a fool in love.

He follows the sound, the hallway is in darkness as well but their place is so small and they make a habit of not leaving things on the floor everywhere so he’s confident he can reach Alan without tripping and killing himself in the process.

The bedroom isn’t exactly illuminated but the tiny bed lamp post at one side is on and graces Alan with a nice ambient light. It gives him a good profile, enigmatic almost. “Well, hello to you too.” The greeting isn’t as cheeky as he would have wanted, Billy thinks that it has to do with the panicking happening a few minutes ago. So it’s a forgivable occurrence that he doesn’t come across as perky. Leaning into the door frame gives him time to glance at the book Alan’s pretending to read.

“Hey.” As he closes the book and leaves it on the bedside table, the cover reveals that it’s one of those lousy cheap novels one would buy in the airport to pass the time in between flights. “You’re late.”

That immediately moves his eyes from the book to Alan. “I’m sorry. Got carried away talking to some students.”

Alan nods, way too placidly and it revolves his insides uncomfortably. The subdued tinge he recognized before it's actually a sort of melancholic sadness that puts him back on track with the might-soon-to-be panicking.

Billy decides that a direct approach is the best course of action and simply goes to Alan, sitting at his side and giving him a peck as an official hello. Alan lets him, of course he does, but tilts his head enough to receive a proper kiss also, one Billy wouldn’t even dream of denying.

“What’s with the lights?” He questions softly. “Did you forget to pay the bill again?” The gentle teasing and prodding is helpful, or so Billy hopes.

“That was only one time.” Alan protests, crooked half-smile showing up at last.

“Okay, okay.” Billy concedes, more than glad to do so. “Then?”

Alan gives him a look, it’s meaningful but reserved. As it always is with Alan and his stubbornness.

“Nothing really.”

Ha! If only Billy would be naive enough to believe that…

“Alright. What about the dinner? Did you try to cook?” That makes Alan look away. There’s not real shame but he’s definitely bashful about it. “You took out the nice glasses and plates and even put candles.”

“Yeah.” He coughs out the word and Billy wants to actually eat him whole, kiss by kiss.

_God_. He definitely is a fool in love.

“Shit, Alan, did I forget your birthday or something equally important?” Because Billy _has_ to know. If he’s more than just a fool in love, like a regular senseless fool he needs to know it.

“No, of course not.” Alan answers in that no nonsense way of his, all openly stern and amused. “It was just… It was just me being ridiculous.”

“Don’t say that. If I’m not mistaken, I remember me being the most ridiculous.” He counteracts, small snicker and all. Alan rolls his eyes but doesn’t engage the statement any further. “Well. Would you care telling me what was that about then?”

Alan pauses for a few minutes, there’s only silence.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Billy.” And he leans once again for a kiss, longer and with meaning this time around, a teasing tongue poking softly.

But Billy is sort of really shocked. The domestic dread has taken residence in his chest, all too comfortable there.

“Alan! I completely forgot! Is it today? Are you sure?” The sassy arched eyebrow is enough to have him laughing. “Okay, you’re sure. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Alan’s smile is tender and with no judgment whatsoever. “I just— how did I forget?”

He gets three pats on his knee for his troubled questioning and a shrug for an answer.

“It’s not like we actually celebrate it, don’t you think?”

“No, not really. But still.” Billy sighs, suddenly noticing the ridiculousness in all of this, as if they’re newly wed or recently moved in together and Alan should impress him or something. As if they haven’t fought with passion about harmless things and also about reckless decisions that actually put lives in danger. As if they haven’t been on death’s door and Alan didn’t think he lost him in that forsaken island. As if that haven’t taught them to celebrate love even if while recovering isn’t always an easy thing to do. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Alan.” He presses another kiss, chaste but thoughtful. “Thank you.” A kiss. “I really am sorry. For being late and for forgetting.”

“It’s alright. We don’t celebrate it, I was just being ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so, it was lovely.” Billy says. The intention of it all is what it counts, so it was very lovely.

“Yes, the ruined dinner is delicious, I bet.”

It elicits a bark of laughter out of Billy. “How did that even happened?”

“I went to buy flowers.” He offers, smiling that one-sided lip-curved smile of his. Of course, flowers are synonym of Valentine’s, right? Damn right Alan wanted to give him flowers. White or red or any kind really.

“The flower shop is two blocks away!”

“They were very expensive there. We’re always on a tight budget.” He says, and it’s serious. Alan truly believed he could find cheap flowers on Valentine’s day, who’s innocent enough as to think they can find cheap gifts on February? “So I started walking around, looking for other places to buy.”

“I see where this is going.” Billy successfully refrains from giggling like a little kid even if this story actually grants it. “You didn’t buy them.” He assures, amused more than anything else.

“No.” Alan confesses and if he were a different kind of man, he’d be blushing. “Flowers were very expensive, _everywhere_.” It’s toneless the way he says this. “When I realized the time, I ran back but it was too late to salvage the meat.”

“Oh God, Alan!” Billy cries out, and hides his face on Alan’s neck, puffing of warm sobbing breaths tickling the other as he laughs silently. The fit subsides and he leaves a kiss for good measure.

Alan is still smiling, a bit ashamed of himself but he’s honestly given up on trying to cover the disaster of his idea. “I was being ridiculous.” He intones carefully once more but Billy’s grin is from ear to ear and they’re so in love.

All is good.

Right?

“It was a cute thing, actually. I just…” Billy isn’t sure how to voice his question. The nagging feeling that there’s something behind this has replaced the domestic dread. “What possessed you to go into all this trouble? I mean, why?”

Alan sighs dramatically and it’s endearing, even for a man his age. “Billy,” He starts in a painfully firm voice. And moving away enough to face him fully, he continues. “have you looked at me?”

Billy blinks. “Yes?” He replies slowly. “I have looked at you everyday for years now.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too!” But it’s humorous. “Okay, okay. What part of you am I supposed to be looking at exactly?”

“My hair.”

Silence.

“That new shampoo is doing wonders for it, it’s definitely softer and shining.”

Another dramatic sigh. “That’s not— not what I meant. And you know it.” Looking away, he adds: “It’s going gray.”

Oh.

Oh Lord.

“Well… yes.”

“I’m not getting any younger.” He stresses.

His grin twitches but remains amused. “No. No one gets younger as time passes by, Alan.”

“ _Billy_.” So sharp. “You are younger.”

Billy tames his grin, turns more fully towards Alan and grabs him by the cheeks, planting the sweetest little kiss. “Is this you being worried about our age difference?”

It has always been a thing, latent there but pointedly ignored a lot of the time. Billy thinks he gets it, Alan worries about many things, the fact that Billy was a really young student when they first met is one of those that has him glaring at the darkness at night. This isn’t a middle-age crisis, probably, but it was an enough of a pushing concern that Alan actually made a romantic dinner for him.

“Do you know that if you get tired of me you can talk to me about it, right? You don’t need to inflict yourself this relationship.”

And wow. Okay, that’s a lot worse than what Billy was expecting. _Inflict a relationship?_ Sweet Jesus.

His face must be horrified and Alan cringes, he can’t care right now when he’s letting the other go and fighting for words to right this belief. “Oh no. This is all wrong.” There goes his eloquence. “Did you— Are you even— I— I just—” Alan looks pained for even bringing it up. “Fuck you.” He says in the end.

Now that’s an utterly cringing face. “I’m sorry.”

“No— Just—” He’s suddenly very tired. Lovely evening, really. “Alan, I love you.” And it’s honest and a bit exasperated. “I know you love me too, it’s the only reason why we’re still together. I don’t stay because we experienced something traumatic together, I was into you long before that. I don’t stay because of your fat paycheck, which isn’t all that fat, sorry. I don’t stay because I’m afraid we’ll go insane without the other. _I stay because we love each other_.” He punctuates the last statement squeezing Alan’s hand briefly. “I stay because this is what I’ve always wanted, a healthy loving relationship with a grumpy adorable man who indulges me and gets me and reprimands me and fights with me when I’m in the wrong. And above all else, loves me.”

Billy is purposefully not looking at Alan and yet he can tell the other is surely flushing a pale pink. Feelings are not easy to talk about. Well, Alan can handle some mushy conversation if that’s what it takes to murder that insecurity in him.

However, a new thought comes quickly and hey, hello there panicking.

“Alan.” He says, short of breath. “Alan. Do you know that if you don’t want this, you can talk to me, right?”

Well, it actually doesn’t make sense. Because if Alan didn’t want him, he wouldn’t have burnt a meal because he was looking for flowers to gift him. Because he wouldn’t be as invested as he is. The heart knows no reason though? So yes, a part of him worries Alan’s the one inflicting a relationship on himself.

“No.” With just that word Alan’s voice is cracking. He grabs Billy’s hand and Billy automatically rests his weight on him, head tucked under Alan’s chin. The long deep calming breath makes them both tremble. “I love you. I want this, _I want you_.”

“Good.” Billy mumbles.

“I was being ridiculous.” He repeats. “But you are young.” Billy snorts at this. “And I am not.” A heartbeat of silence. “And I am insecure.”

“Even after all these years?”

“Even after all these years.”

“Did I do something…?”

“Nothing. Nothing wrong that is.” He clarifies. “You are young and energetic and I’m old and grumpy. And I.” He clears his throat. “I want what’s best for you. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror, all the wrinkles and gray hair and unfriendly expression and I doubt I’m— You could do better.”

“I don’t want better? Beside what is better according to you? A younger guy, who I have nothing in common with, like one of my students or what? I don’t get you, Alan.” But Billy is speaking lowly, almost whispering heatedly, leaning away to watch Alan in the eyes. “I want the guy who worries he’s not the best for me so he tries to make a special dinner for Valentine’s and when he inevitably ruins it, just pours out this sad speech about me deserving better.”

Alan smiles almost shyly. “It wasn’t inevitable.”

“Of course you’d latch onto that part instead of all the other important stuff I said.” He is returning the smile, all the same.

“I’m sorry. I’ll rethink my sad speech.”

“Good.” Billy awards him with yet another kiss. Honest, simple, languorous, full of feeling. This isn’t in any way a finished argument but for now it’s settled. “Now why don’t we just order some delivery, hmm? Let’s not waste that wine chilling in the fridge.”

“That… that’d be lovely.”

Billy scoffs a laugh. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Dr. Alan Grant, my elated old lover.”


End file.
